


Skimming Clouds

by pixie_rings



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, Rebel AU, Resistance AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:07:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26065498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pixie_rings/pseuds/pixie_rings
Summary: Shiro is found by the Pride, the Altean Resistance to the Galra Empire, and, more importantly, by its leader, Princess Allura.
Relationships: Allura/Shiro (Voltron)
Kudos: 14





	Skimming Clouds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Braincoins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Braincoins/gifts).



> Done for an fic ask prompt meme thingy on the tungl. This is like a fast-forwarded version of an idea I had for a longer Rebel/Resistance AU where the Alteans are, themselves, the Resistance against the Galra Empire, with their hidden base on Arus. Maybe one day it'll be a real longfic. Maybe.

They find him deep in the bowels of a Galra slaveship. He is separate from the rest of the ship’s… cargo, kept in darkness and manacled. The purple light from the door makes him blink rapidly, but his eyes quickly adjust and he raises his head. From the defiant glint in his eye and the rigid set of his jaw, it is all for a reason. This one is untamed, unbroken, still rebellious. Allura feels a wild surge of kinship with him, as she steps into the cell and breaks the shackles with her vibrating lightblade.

“ _Quickly_ , Allura!” Riluan hisses from the doorway.

“Come with us!” Allura urges. The man looks at her, but he does not hesitate to take the hand she offers and lets her haul him to his shaking feet. Despite his obvious weakness, he keeps pace with them, and soon they are out into space, the slaves freed, and perhaps a new ally by their side.

* * *

They remove the shackles fully on the castleship, and immediately the man rubs his left wrist with a deep sigh of relief.

“Thanks,” he says. The first word he utters to her is with a grateful smile, and Allura has to keep down the glow in her cheeks by force. His smile makes his face look younger, less stern and weary, and even _more_ handsome than it already was.

She clears her throat, responds with her own brief nod. “You are welcome,” she replies.

* * *

They learn his name is Takashi Shirogane (“call me Shiro, everyone does”) of Earth. It is in a quadrant of space so overlooked and far away Allura marvels at how far he has travelled.

“Not willingly,” he says bitterly when she remarks. Her ears burn.

“Forgive me, I meant no offence…” she quickly says, and he shakes his head vehemently.

“No, no! I mean… I’d have liked to be here under better circumstances,” he amends with a small, gentle smile that has her heart pounding in her chest. “But… now I’m here, I can’t go back. There’s too much to do here. I can’t just turn my back on people, not when I can help. Earth can get by without me.”

* * *

They also learn Shiro is incredibly capable at a great many things, despite the obvious primitive nature of his own planet’s technology. He learns their engineering quickly, he fights with a vicious pragmatism Allura finds herself admiring in all the least appropriate ways, and he leans towards a bright, resplendent optimism that fills her with a furious hope she’d never dared to allow herself before. They go on missions together more and more, working together in a way so seamless any outsider would think they’ve known each other for deca-phoebs. He doesn’t have Altean strength or chameleon flesh, but he works his strategies around what _Allura_ has, and while he works well with everyone else, it is beside her that he shines.

Steadily, they draw closer, brought together by the inescapable gravity of war and hardship and trauma. They talk, of far-off distant worlds and people lost, of fears and hopes and dreams and family. His warmth spreads through her when she rests her head on his shoulder as they watch Arus’s night sky drift by. His arm around her waist is strong and comforting, her fingers laced with his an anchor for them both. Yet even as they talk, they make no mention of this thing between them, this taut, golden thread of comfort and longing. Allura is afraid to speak it aloud, to give it a name.

* * *

And everything is going good, as well as a rebellion can go, until it isn’t.

It happens when they are not together. It happens where Allura can’t protect, can’t save him, and as soon as she hears of it she leaves the bridge, ignoring Coran’s shout of her name, and she rushes to the cryopods.

He is already in one, his face drawn and pale with pain, and three long, vicious gashes across his chest.

“It was a berserker,” Feno says, shaking. “It was going for Qizea and he threw himself in front of it.”

Allura can feel terror bubbling within her. She feels sick to the very depths of herself, and, unbidden, tears roll down her cheeks as she presses a hand to the glass.

“Survive,” she murmurs furiously. “I have so much to say to you still.”

* * *

He awakens three days later, and both relief and fury swirl inside Allura’s core. She barges into the medbay, where Atheron is giving him a last scan, and she breathes deeply through her nose, fists clenched, shoulders squared, preparing to tear him to pieces out of worry.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, before she can even open her mouth to say anything. Her hands tremble, loosening, she bites her lip, and the tears return. Atheron clears his throat and bids a hasty retreat, the door sliding closed behind him, but neither of them truly notice.

Shiro opens his arms, and she rushes into them, her face buried in his chest. She has never felt more at home since Altea burned.

“ _Never_ do that again,” she sobs.

“I won’t, I won’t,” he promises, peppering kisses on her hair. She pulls back, stares at him, opens her mouth to speak…

“I love you,” he says, so sure, so steadfast. He’s beaten her to it once again. She can’t help but chuckle, wiping away her tears with the heel of her hand.

“As I love you,” she replies. The words are said, they cannot be taken back now. Neither of them seems to care, as they fold back into each other’s embrace.

* * *

It is three hectic missions and four days of no rest later, and they have returned to Arus. They leave the crowd and the chatter, the warmth of fires and friends, for the quiet, starlit spaces beyond. She still rests her head upon his shoulder, but now his arms enfold her from behind, and she can turn, press her face to the warm skin of his neck, breathe him in whenever she so likes.

“Why did you not return to Earth when we offered?” she asks, tracing her fingers along the seams of his Galra arm, cool metal and the thrum of quintessence beneath her touch.

“Well, because people need help,” he said. “No good man just turns his back on those in need. And also…” He kisses the tip of her ear, just to hear her giggle. “ _You_ were the one that found me.”

She cuts off a sigh. “Am I… tethering you here? Keeping you when you could be free?”

“Allura,” he murmurs. He tilts her head to look her in the eye, that soft brown she’d never seen before, so alien, so rare and precious. “You meant freedom from the very start.”

She rises up to meet his lips with hers, winds her arms around him, pulls him closer, and feels her heart become lighter than it has in centuries.


End file.
